Always a Queen
by whimsycality
Summary: Companion piece to Always and Always a King. 50 Line Character Study of Liz.


**Title:** Always a Queen

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing, all characters and original Roswell/Narnia (book and movie) verse settings belong to other very lucky people.

**Pairings/Couples/Category:** UC/Crossover. Liz/Edmund

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary:** Companion piece to Always and Always a King. 50 line Character Study of Liz, taken from the 50 Line Challenge on polarattraction dot net.

**Warnings:**Contains hints of violence, romantic interactions although nothing graphic, angsty and happy just like Always.

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><p><em><strong>Touch – <strong>_The carpet was rough beneath her fingertips, and damp where her tears had landed; it was wrong, all wrong, she should be touching soft Narnian grass or fur rug covered stone floors, and all she wanted to do was wake up and realize that this was a nightmare.

_**Red **_– The blood was so dark it was almost black, and she grimaced as she wiped off her sword; once the adrenaline rush wore off, she found the aftermath of battle nothing short of sickening.

_**Power**_ – When the aliens spoke of power, they meant their abilities, gifted to them by science she didn't entirely understand or trust; to her, power was magic, was Aslan, was love, was being a Queen with a King, forever and always.

_**Crash **_– When she woke up on the plane, and realized that her time in Narnia, with _Edmund_, had been ripped away from her once again, she prayed that the plane would crash and burn, because she couldn't take it, not again.

_**Cheek **_– When Max touched her cheek, it took everything she had not flinch away, while her skin crawled at the idea of someone besides Edmund looking at her with that feeling in his eyes.

_**Glare **_– The glare Susan directed her way when she suggested having a simple wedding in the meadow where Aslan's army had camped, made her gulp and surrender; she wouldn't see its match again until she met one Isabel Evans.

_**Happiness **_– She smiled and laughed with Alex and Maria, and blushed as she let Kyle kiss her, but to her, _real_ happiness was telling stories with Lucy and Tumnus, watching Susan and Peter argue in that calm English way, or feeling Edmund's arms around her as they stood on their balcony and watched the trees dance.

_**Edge **_– Once she got over the first shock of being back in New Mexico, she was constantly on edge, trying not to let on that she wasn't a normal eight-year-old girl any longer, that she had lived a full life, fought battles, been married, and in reality was almost as old as her clueless parents.

_**Desert **_– Tears streaking down her face, she sprinted across the desert, knowing that she wasn't running from Max and his destiny, she was running because it had reminded her of her own, and how every kiss and moment she had shared with him as she tried to forget her past, was a betrayal of everything, and everyone, she loved.

_**Kill **_– After Michael killed Pierce, she saw the quickly concealed shock and horror in his eyes and remembered feeling those same emotions the first time she'd spilled blood; she wanted to go to him, to share the ways she'd learned to handle those emotions, but it wasn't the Liz Parker he knew who'd lived through battles, through killing, and so once again she ignored her past and kept silent, the unspoken words burning bitterly on her tongue.

_**Knot **_– Her tongue was tied and her stomach was twisting itself into complicated knots as Edmund walked across the courtyard towards her, a particularly intent look in his dark green eyes – was he finally going to kiss her?

_**Desire **_– His hands had been shaking, but they stilled when he touched her, his eyes darkening as he drew her in for a kiss, and a fire began to burn beneath her skin, one she knew only he could quench.

_**Plan **_– Max and the others were surprised by her innate grasp of strategy and tactics once their flight from Roswell turned into an all-out running war; they didn't know that she'd spent years watching Peter and Edmund learn and plan for battle, and years after helping them do it.

_**Defeat**_ – Everyone was celebrating – the Skins had been vanquished, the government had agreed to leave them in peace in exchange for complete secrecy, and they could finally go home; Liz turned away, staring at the cold stars, and blinked back tears – she'd been secretly praying for defeat.

_**Chair**_ – When Edmund had mentioned his intention of building her a throne once they were married, she had refused, not wanting the attention, or for it to seem that she thought herself equal to the prophesied Kings and Queens; to compromise, he'd had her favorite reading chair placed on the dais next to his throne, she'd protested that too, but he hadn't given in, and every day after their wedding, she'd joined him there for Court appearances as his partner, _his_ Queen.

_**Book**_ – After she returned to New Mexico, deposited in a heap in her Grandmother's library with the high-pitched voice of her babysitter still echoing down the hall, she'd stared at the book in her lap until her eyes started to burn, flipping pages frantically, then screamed and threw it across the room; she'd been curled into a fetal position on the floor, weeping helplessly, when the babysitter finally came to investigate.

_**Melt**_ – Being in Narnia again, even though she was soaking wet and freezing on a painfully hard wooden deck, was enough to thaw the ice that had imprisoned her heart since the moment she'd woken up in her nine-year-old body again.

_**Window**_– They said that eyes were the window to the soul, but neither Kyle's blue ones, nor Max's amber colored orbs, or her chocolate brown pools in the mirror, had shown her anything other than the reflection of her dying hopes and dreams.

_**Blood**_ – The crimson stain on her bra mesmerized her, her thumb tracing endless circles around it, and she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Max hadn't been there, if the brief visions she'd seen as she faded from life would have become a reality.

_**Father**_ – Her dad stared at her, brow furrowed in concern and surprise, and she quickly giggled, babbling about the history channel show she'd seen at Alex's, and feeling a surge of relief when he relaxed, dismissing his fears over just how his daughter how known the most effective uses of a blade when it came to incapacitation versus death.

_**Drive**_ – Her fingers clenched on the wheel as Max babbled cluelessly from the passenger's seat, and for just a moment, she considered veering the van into the next lane, where an oncoming semi would end their sugar-coated nightmare once and for all.

_**Graduation**_ – The alien abyss had consumed her, provided a distraction from the gaping hole in her life, but she'd hoped that at the end of high school, she'd be able to try something else, see if she even had the ability to do normal – clearly, she'd been an idiot.

_**Punch**_ – Alex dying had been a vicious punch to the stomach, a reminder that even in this faded, empty life, she could still experience loss.

_**Glue**_ – The dew clung to her hands, sticky and thick, and Lucy flung a handful of flower petals at her, laughing when she raised pink petal covered fingers and chased the other girl across the meadow in retaliation.

_**Steal**_– Lips pursed in determination, Liz stalked down the palace hallway, determined to find the thieving sneak who'd absconded with her book – she would've let Edmund borrow it if he just asked, but now, now he had to pay.

_**Palm**_ – Edmund placed a gentle kiss on her palm, sending a delicious shiver down her spine as he looked up at her with those shadowed green eyes and asked her to dance; she blushed and nodded, answering his spoken question, and unspoken desire.

_**Dance**_– Energy arced from her fingers as she whirled and ducked, searching out her enemies with her eyes, ears, and other senses, each one falling with a pained cry, unworthy partners in the deadliest of dances.

_**More**_– Every kiss, every touch, every glance, and every word was painful perfection after so long apart, and she knew she would never get enough.

_**Diner**_ – Working in her parents' restaurant was a surreal experience after a lifetime guiding a country, leading battles, and cementing alliances, and she could never decide if she found it a simple relief, or a needless aggravation.

_**Bridge**_– Max's hand was clenched in hers, his eyes wide with terror and desperation, and as they leapt into the air, her stomach leaping into her throat, she didn't know if she wanted them to sink or swim.

_**Win**_ – The peace treaty with the Antarian League was signed, the 'never happened/doesn't exist' government agreement had been reached, and the war was finally over – Liz was the only one who didn't consider it a victory.

_**Alcohol**_ – She got drunk once, with Michael in a bar a year after graduation, and ended up babbling about lions and magic and being a queen with a king_ always_; the next day, she'd claimed it was all a vivid dream, but he never looked at her quite the same, and he was the only one who never sided with Max when she refused to marry him.

_**Ache**_ – Her muscles ached and she could swear even her bones hurt, but the satisfaction in Edmund's gaze as he surveyed the battlefield, with the fewest casualties they'd suffered so far, was more than worth the pain.

_**Pedestal**_ – Whenever Max stared at her with _that_ look in his eyes, she wanted to snap and scream at him, list off all her sins, every drop of blood shed at her hand, every time she'd wished that he had never touched her, and every piece of vile rage and hate that lurked beneath her skin.

_**Soft**_ – The silken sheets were soft, but not as soft as his lips as they rained kisses on her stomach, or as soft as his hair as she tangled her fingers in it, and certainly not as soft as her insides when he turned her into mush with a single whispered word – _beautiful._

_**Action**_ – Maria hadn't really understood her preference for action movies over romances after she returned from Narnia, and she'd stared in wide eyed shock when Liz had stuck the Lord of the Rings DVD in the microwave and let it cook until a shower of sparks shorted the power.

_**Chains**_ – Feeling the cold iron on her wrists and seeing the chains binding her husband and her sister-in-law made her feel the oddest combination of fear, anger, excitement, and nostalgia – it was all she could do not to laugh out loud as she locked gazes with Edmund and saw the same glint in his eyes.

_**Woods**_ – Before she'd fallen into Narnia, she'd thought the Shuddering Wood sounded like an unpleasant place, being forced to walk through the eerie, silent trees did nothing to change her opinion.

_**Chamber**_ – The energy in the pod chamber had pressed against her skin, both too similar, and too different, compared to the feel of long lost magic – it made her skin scrawl and her stomach shiver and she both hated and craved every minute spent in the alien cave.

_**Proof**_ – Her obsession with proof and experiments and the scientific method only existed to protect her from her bone deep need for a world no one else had ever seen, and a life lived that no one else would believe.

_**Transform**_ – The podsquad thought that her transformation from human, to something else, was amazing, but she knew that it was by far a less fundamental change than from child, to woman and wife, and back again.

_**Guilt**_ – Every time Max touched her or kissed her, she felt her guilt over betraying her marriage vows overlaying her skin like a slimy film that would never wash off.

_**Deaf**_ – She'd made herself deaf to her own memories, her own wants, her real self, and the bullet piercing her flesh also broke that shield, sending her spinning headlong into a three year love affair with denial and a death wish.

_**Love**_ – She loved her parents, she loved her friends, and she'd felt a form of love for both Kyle and Max, but her love for Edmund and for Narnia consumed her whole being until there was room for nothing else, and it took all she had to continue breathing in a world without either.

_**Quiet**_ – The quiet moments at the end of the day were her favorite, when she would let her mind wander as her head rested on Edmund's chest and his fingers gently wove through her hair while he read, moments of peaceful tranquility that sustained her through their hectic days, and the long weeks spent apart.

_**Agony**_** – **A sword pierced Edmund's side, his face going shock white as he staggered, and fear sped up her heart rate until it hurt, the air too thick to breathe, until she saw Lucy reach his side with her magic cordial, tears running unashamedly down her cheeks as she was spared the agony of becoming a widow.

_**Poison**_ – Nicholas's words were poison in her ear, taunting and vicious and petty, reminding her of the part she'd played in every death of the past ten years, and the part she'd play in those to come.

_**Time**_ – Time wasn't linear, it swirled in loops and eddies, a lifetime lived in the moment between breaths, and death lasting years beyond bearing.

_**Tie**_ –She'd felt an equal urge to laugh, and to cry, when the leather clad man told her that she'd had an active part in bending time and space, in trying to _fix_ things, in prolonging her own misery – when would she learn to just let go?

_**Thrill**_ – Every cell in her body and every insubstantial bit of her soul burned with the intense thrill of being pressed into Narnian grass, her husband's mouth latched onto hers as he alternated between kissing her and babbling her name, while she held tight to the knowledge that she _never _had to lose him again.


End file.
